


Who Says You Can't Go Home

by EternalEclipse



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Universe, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Post-Winter War (Bleach), weird soul things, wibbly wobbly deathy weathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19815763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalEclipse/pseuds/EternalEclipse
Summary: Ichigo finds himself in a strange place after he uses the final Getsuga Tenshō.





	1. Chapter 1

After Ichigo let go of Mugetsu, three things happened.

First, Aizen failed to die. Ichigo did see him grabbing at his chest, and then being hit by something else, so perhaps things were just fine, but he did feel vaguely cheated by the entire event.

Second, color began to bleed out of his sight. Ichigo fell to his knees as his legs refused to carry him any farther. Like this he could feel the ragged, bleeding edges of his soul where he’d torn it. He tried to open his mouth to say something, perhaps even to call for help, but his tongue tasted like salt and ash. The salt of Tensa’s tears and the ash of his cloak, all that remained.

He hadn’t quite lost sight of the battle. He was determined to see it through. Through half-closed eyes, Ichigo saw Aizen turn into some kind of grotesque statue. He wasn’t sure how that happened, or that it wasn’t some kind of new chrysalis stage, but he hoped that it meant his sacrifice hadn’t been for nothing.

And third, third was when Ichigo realized that Urahara was calling out to him.

Ichigo mustered up a smile somewhere for him. It was all a dying man had to offer.

And then, suddenly, in the middle of a word, there was silence, and Ichigo went to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Ichigo was walking the familiar path between Tatsuki’s dojo and the clinic, although he wasn’t sure why. His feet took him where they were supposed to go, and he let them. He knew, intellectually, that the river had to be nearby, but he couldn’t hear so much as a trickle, and there was only the path and the grass.

Figured he’d dream of this.

He stopped walking and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. When he opened them, he was standing next to the spot on the river he’d spent half his childhood staring into, his mother sitting in the grass with an unlikely disregard for stains.

“Ichigo,” she said, and he was helpless to disobey.

“Mom.”

His voice broke, and suddenly Ichigo found himself the subject of a crushing hug. He clung back with as much strength as he could gather, ignoring the tears leaking out of his eyes. It wasn’t every day you got to see your mother, especially after she died.

Some time later they pulled apart, and sat on the hill, just off the path.

“What is this?” Ichigo asked.

“The reincarnation cycle. This is where souls go before they get remade.”

“Remade?” Ichigo sat up in horror. “But—”

“But that’s how it is, Ichigo. I can’t change it. And neither can you. This isn’t something to be protected from, but something you need to accept.”

Ichigo felt like grumbling that the last time he’d “needed to accept” something, he’d let his soul stab him and then destroyed it. He wondered if Zangetsu was here, somewhere. But this was still his mother, even if she was talking more like Zangetsu than his memories of her.

“Is that it then? I need to accept dying?” Ichigo shook his head. “I can’t accept losing, because that means that everyone I’m standing in front of loses too.”

And then Masaki morphed into the mixed form of Tensa Zangetsu, right in front of him. Ichigo was almost surprised by it, but somehow it felt right. He didn’t know how to interrogate that feeling, but with Tensa sitting right in front of him, he had other things to worry about.

“But what about the one standing in front of you?” Tensa asked. “If you move forward, you’ll mow down your own soul.”

Ichigo picked up the sword Tensa was holding. Their bankai sword, although it looked slightly different from the last time he’d seen it. “But that’s not how this works, is it?” Ichigo commented, turning the point of that sword towards his own heart.

Tensa was stoic as the tip of the sword pressed into Ichigo’s skin. The world dissolved like an ink painting distended by water, except for Tensa and their sword. Masaki appeared at Tensa’s left shoulder, eyes glimmering. At Tensa’s right was Muramasa, who was looking at Ichigo as if he’d hung the moon and stars. Ichigo tried to say something, but then they all pushed, and the sword pierced right through his chest.

Ichigo’s world went black.

And then, unexpectedly, that blackness turned from the blackness of void into the lesser darkness of closed human eyes. Ichigo opened his, wondering where the strange beeping was coming from, and had to close them again. Too bright.

He had only just accustomed himself to the light when a noise sounded like a slamming door. Ichigo looked towards the disturbance, only to see Urahara, who looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. He had only the barest of composure, and looked like he’d run the entire length of the Shoten up until he got to Ichigo’s sickroom.

Ichigo had never seen the shopkeeper like this before, and he definitely didn’t like it. But he’d died twice to be able to embrace his loved ones again, and somehow, somewhere, he thought his mother would approve.

“Good to see you too, Geta-boshi,” Ichigo whispered. “But I’m not going anywhere, but you’d better get something to eat, or I’ll try.”

He felt more than heard Urahara’s chuckle as he settled next to Ichigo, checking his vitals with practiced hands. “As you wish, Kurosaki-san. It’s been three days since Aizen was defeated, and you’ll be glad to know that all of your friends are recovering nicely. Now, would you like some tea with that?”

“Always, Urahara-san,” Ichigo grinned. Urahara smiled back and temporarily vacated the room.

Everything, then, was as it should be. The enemy was gone. Ichigo had protected his family and friends, and he hadn’t had to do it alone. He closed his eyes and checked for Zangetsu. His soul reached back, and his sword rematerialized in front of him. _Thank you_ , he thought. _“For everything.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so plans A and B for this event failed, so I wrote this piece instead of sleeping. I'll post the second chapter/rest of the fic in the morning after I wake up, so until then you will all have to suffer the angst. Muahahaha--*hacking cough*. ahem. hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I also challenged myself to write exactly 1000 words for this just so it wouldn't turn into the mess that was my original plan, which is currently over 5k and looking to double itself, so I do promise that this isn't super dragged out. So that was fun too!


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